


Magic in the Air

by Bellatrix_Wannabe_89



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/M, Happy Birthday Suzie!, I hope I did your ship justice, I mean I’ve never even read a HHr fic before, LITERALLY, My very first HHr fic EVER, No Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24377242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellatrix_Wannabe_89/pseuds/Bellatrix_Wannabe_89
Summary: Harry and Hermione are absolutely convinced that DADA Professor Jaime Lannister is a Deatheater and more than that, they’re sure he has Astronomy Professor Brienne Tarth under the Imperio Curse. Determined to find out the truth they make a plan that will end up revealing plans and plots and feelings, just not the ones they expected...
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 5
Kudos: 60
Collections: 🌈Love is love is love is





	Magic in the Air

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bibliowitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliowitch/gifts).



> !!!HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUZIE!!! I hope you love this as much as I love you❤️❤️❤️

“Jupiter?”

“Close.”

“Venus?”

“Getting colder.”

“Uranus?”

Brienne Tarth, head of Hufflepuff House and resident Hogwarts Astronomy Professor, waited patiently for the snickering from the less mature sixth years to die down before she answered with a firm, “no, Mr. Finnigan, it is not Uranus.” Left with no other choice, she called on the bushy haired girl in the front row, hand held high as always and the one she knew would answer correctly.

“Kappa Velorum, formally named Markeb,” said Hermione, “is 13 degrees from the south celestial pole of  **_Mars_ ** _.”  _

The professor gave her brightest student a nod before she glanced at her watch. “Okay, it looks like I’ve kept you awake long enough. Don’t forget essays on the stars in Gemini are due Friday, two feet of parchment and this WILL be on the NEWTs,” she called over the sound of the Gryffindors hurrying to pack away their things.

Hermione hung back, watching as the tall blonde began packing up her own things. Brienne finally noticed the young witch out of the corner of her eye and turned towards her. “Can I help you with something, Ms. Granger?” she asked in her deep upper-class accent.

“Yes, Professor, you see.” Hermione wrecked her hands together nervously. “I’ve already written my Gemini essay, and it currently stands at 3½ feet. Is that alright?”

Brienne gave her a friendly smile and she let out the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. “Of course it is, Ms. Granger.”

Hermione thanked her but rather than head down the stairs, she watched as Brienne turned and put the cap back on her own telescope, a stunning highly technical instrument of solid gold with rubies carved into the body tube and a lens so powerful it would have made any muggle astronomer weep with envy. 

“Is there something else I can help you with?” the blonde asked when she noticed her student still standing there.

“Nothing of importance,” Hermione assured her. “I just always wondered where you got your telescope. It is a rather marvelous bit of machinery.”

Brienne smiled again at the mention of it, running her hand over the bright yellow and flawless metal. “Thank you, I’m quite fond of it as well. But to answer your question; Professor Lannister got it for me for my birthday.”

“Oh my. That’s quite the gift.”

“Yes, I suppose it is.” 

Another quick smile before she began to pack up her lesson plans and other papers. Hermione gnawed at her lip with her slightly oversized teeth. This was not the sort of thing she normally did. Actually putting the plots and schemes the trio came up with into work typically fell on Harry, but since neither could figure out a reason why Harry would visit the Astronomy Tower when he wasn’t taking 6th Year Astronomy it fell on Hermione.

“Do you-... do you know  _ why _ he got you the telescope?” she stammered out.

“As I said it was my birthday and me and Professor Lannister are very good friends.”

“But you weren’t always?”

That gave the tall woman pause. She recovered quickly and slung her bag over her shoulder. “No. We weren’t actually.”

“Because he’s a Deatheater.”

Brienne hardened her face and pursed her lips. Hermione felt her heart slam against her chest. She hated making teachers upset. An upset teacher might mean a held grudge and a held grudge might mean less than a perfect score on a piece of homework or a test.

“Those are  _ accusations, _ Ms. Granger.” Hermione wanted to wince at the sharpness in Brienne's tone, a tone she never took with her before. “Unfounded, untrue accusations.”

“But Professor Lannister  _ did _ kill Aerys Targaryen though, when he was seventeen, and Aerys was a member of the First Order wasn't he? If Professor Lannister killed a member of the Order-.”

“Ms. Granger, there is quite a bit you need to learn about the world before you waste words on situations you don’t have the full scope of the details on, first of all that it’s not as black and white as you like to believe.” 

A hot blush rose to Hermione’s cheeks and she quickly stammered out a hasty apology before she turned on the heel of her boot and scampered away as fast as she could, palms sweating and heart pounding. 

She found Harry waiting for her at the bottom of the steps and the moment he saw the terrified expression his face fell. “What happened?” the bespectacled wizard asked, and she knew he was concerned more for his friend than the information she found out. “Hermione?”

“She- Tarth, she got upset,” Hermione explained, doing her best to mellow her nerves. “I mentioned what Lannister did to Aerys and she got angry at me.”

Hardy opened his mouth to respond but before he could they heard footsteps on the stone stairs. The two wizards rushed out of the small corridor and practically threw themselves around the corner, watching unseen as Brienne walked past them, her long sapphire-colored robes sweeping the floor. Neither so much as breathed until they heard the sound of a distant door opening and shutting. 

Hermione glanced towards the skinny boy pressed up against the wall beside her just as he looked towards her. The two were standing so close she could feel his breath on her lips. 

Grateful for the dimness of the hallway, a warm blush crept up Hermione's cheeks and she quickly took a step backwards from Harry, stammering out a buttered embarrassed apology that he accepted in a similar fashion.

“So did she know anything about Aerys?” Harry asked after a spell in a hushed whisper so they wouldn’t be overheard by any students still lingering by the tower. Hermione has to lean in close to hear him.

She nodded. “She does. Tarth told me that it wasn’t as black and white as Professor Stark made it out to be.”

“He was standing over the body covered in blood,” Harry reminded her. “He didn’t even use his wand, he used a dagger and stabbed him in the back. You can’t get any more black and white than that.”

“But if Tarth knows some kind of truth, a secret just between them, perhaps it really isn’t as cut and dry as the story that was put out.”

Harry frowned at that. He heard the same story Hermione and all the rest of the Wizarding World heard. Aerys Targaryen was from a very old line of purebloods with a very peculiar and particularly strong magic in regards to fire. There were even legends that told tales of how the Targaryens of old used magic that belonged to their bloodline and their bloodline alone to ride dragons, a feat completely unheard of in recent years.

Aerys was also a member of the first Order, a tried and true and trusted member, and one day he came to Hogwarts to speak to Dumbledore. No one was sure what happened between the time he walked through the front doors, tipping his hat to McGonagall, and when he got to the abandoned classroom, but everyone knows what happened after.

Shouting between an old man and a teenage boy, a cry, a scream and then the, at the time, DADA Professor Ned Stark raced in to find Jaime Lannister standing over the body as Aerys laid dead at his feet, blood pouring from the wound in his back.

Stark immediately summoned the Aurors who took the young boy into custody. Old and plentiful Lannister money and influence cleared him out of any criminal wrong-doing and Dumbledore himself argued for Jaime being allowed to finish his final few months of school but he became a pariah, an outcast, a man without honor. His fellow Gryffindors wanted nothing to do with him, all of them calling him a coward and a Deatheater. The teachers hated him, especially Stark, at worst or ignored him, like McGonagall had, at best, and his only two friends in the world was his Slytherin twin who treated him more like a lackey then a sibling and his younger Ravenclaw brother.

The most widely accepted theory was Lannister had cast the Imperius Curse on Aerys and led him to a room so he could murder him before the silver haired Auror could relay any important messages about Voldemort’s movements to Dumbledore. Another rumor was that his sister Cersei, who he had a VERY close, some would almost say inappropriate, relationship with, convinced him to kill him for her so she could rise higher in Voldemort’s inner-circle. But whatever the reason was, Lannister was shunned and hated, despised by all, including first year Brienne Tarth.

After graduation he worked as a bodyguard for the newly elected Minister of Magic (and brother in law) Robert Baratheon, working his way up to head of security and then just two years ago Dumbledore invited him to teach at Hogwarts in the DADA position where he and Professor Tarth couldn’t spend so much as ten minutes together in the same room without it coming to blows. Then something happened the summer after Sirius died. What exactly it was Harry or Hermione wasn’t sure, but at the start of the term Jaime Lannister was short one hand and the two blondes had somehow gone from having grudging respect for a colleague you loathed to being friends.

They ate side by side in the Great Hall, Lannister asked Tarth to run the dueling club with him, more than once the students would find Professor Lannister around the Hufflepuff common room where her chambers were close by and Tarth always seemed to have a hint of blush painting her cheeks and was just a touch softer with her students then on days when he hadn’t visited.

Harry didn’t trust him, Hermione either. Dumbledore assured Harry that Lannister was dependable, echoing the sentiments that the rumors of him being a Deatheater was just that, a rumor. It hadn’t mattered, the Headmaster promised, that his twin had been in Voldemort’s inner-circle, it didn’t matter that the Lannister’s were an old line of Purebloods as noble and ancient as the Blacks or Malfoys, it didn’t matter that Tarth, another Pureblood but of a newer more progressive line, had seemingly done a 180 on the man she hated and she could quite possibly be under the same spell he used when he killed Aerys.

No. Harry knew the truth. Lannister somehow cursed Tarth, who was a member of the second Order, and was getting her to spy for him. Now all they needed was the proof that he was exactly what everyone said he was- a man without honor and a Deatheater who was working for Voldemort.

“Lannister lied to Tarth,” Harry finally decided on. “He told her a lie and then he cursed her with Imperio or cursed her to tell lies or something, I know it.” 

Hermione bit back a protest. She knew better than to try to talk him down from a theory. Besides, she was forced to admit, it did have merit. Tarth went from loathing him to turning red whenever Lannister so much as smiled at her in the hall, and he had gone from sneering about how ugly he thought the tall woman was in full view of the other students to taking 20 points from Slytherin when he overheard Draco call Tarth a ‘great cow’ after she punished him with detention. ‘He has to keep up appearances' Harry concluded when Hermione told him something she considered, if she was being perfectly honest, a little romantic. It felt similar to when Harry told Snape off when he called Hermione an insufferable know-it-all and received detention for it.

Which, of course, was ridiculous, she told herself at the time and over the years. That had just been one friend defending another, there was nothing deeper beneath the surface. 

“How on earth can we prove he cursed her though?” Hermione asked Harry. “Dumbledore won’t believe us, Tarth gets defensive when you bring it up, Lannister certainly isn’t going to tell us anything.

Harry agreed. “We need a way to see them together alone, just the two of them, see how they interact. That won’t prove rather or not if he’s a Deatheater and working for Voldemort but it will prove if he’s cursed her or not.”

Hermione thought for a moment, pursing her lips. Beside her, Harry’s stomach grumbled noisily and he hastily apologized, telling Hermione that he had skipped supper in order to wait for her in the corridor. That’s when it clicked.

“Dinner!” She beamed at the black haired teenager. “How many times do the two of them have dinner together in their chambers rather than in the Great Hall? We sneak in there under the cloak, we find out what they’re discussing!” 

When Harry didn’t reply and simply stared wide eyed at her, Hermione realized in all her excitement she had grabbed hold of his hand. She quickly pulled away and took a step back, her face burning hot with blush.

“Sorry,” she muttered. 

“It’s alright,” Harry promised her. He was blushing too. “You uh… you have soft hands,” he stammered out. “So, ya know, no harm done.”

Her face grew as red as the sigil on her chest. “You have nice hands too…. I suppose…”

“Thank you. But uh, back- back to our plan, sneaking into a teacher's private chambers… I think it might be better if I go at it alone.”

She tried not to let the hurt show on her face. “But what if you need me? We know Lannister is a murderer, regardless of who he is now. If you’re hurt you could get hurt.”

“Oh I probably will. But if I get caught we’re not talking detention or some missed points, I could be expelled. I don’t want you to get in that kind of trouble if you don’t have to be.

A fluttering of something she couldn’t quite name filled her stomach. Harry was looking out for her. He was trying to protect her, he was trying to save her from the fallout of this all went south. Not only that but if Harry was right, and Lannister was a Deatheater who had no qualms of keeping a fellow professor under the Imperius or killing a Member order then what was to stop him from cursing or killing a student? No. She couldn’t live with herself if she was safe in the common room while Harry put himself in danger for her idea. 

Hermione reached down and took hold of his hand again, pushing aside her shyness for the moment. “We’re in this together. I wouldn’t ask you to risk anything that I wouldn’t be willing to either. You’re my best friend, Harry, I’m not willing to lose you just because you want to protect me from a possibility of expulsion.”

Harry blinked away the shock of having his hand held twice in the span of thirty seconds in a darkened corridor. The smile he shared with her was soft and kind, and his emerald eyes held a warmth that filled her entire chest.

“Alright then.” There was a strangeness in his voice, one she didn’t quite recognize. But no, she would realize later, she  _ had  _ recognized it. It was the same tone he used in his fifth year when he spoke about Cho. It was the same tone that used to chip away at Hermione’s heart every time he talked with the Ravenclaw. “We do it together.”

The two wizards made plans over the next two weeks. Secret meetings late at night in the quiet abandoned corner of the common room in front of the dying fire. It was, if Hermione was being terribly honest with herself, like something out of a film she might have swooned at as a child. More often than not the conversation would turn from their plotting to discussions of schoolwork, the muggle world (both agreed the thing they missed most was muggle music which wasn’t forbidden at the ancient school but with no muggle electronics allowed including radios there was no way to listen to it), and their fellow students. 

“Did you hear Ginny broke up with Dean?” Hermione asked the night before they were to sneak into Tarth’s office, prodding the glowing embers in the fireplace with the poker.

“I did,” Harry answered, annoyingly casual. “But with all the fighting they did it’s not really a surprise.”

Hermione did her best to keep her voice even (while asking herself why it took so much effort). “I heard from Luna that you were the cause of most of these fights.” 

“Me? Why would I be the cause of them fighting?” he asked rather confused.

“Ginny likes you apparently.”

“I hope she’d like me, we’re friends. Her family has always been good to me.”

“No I mean she  _ likes you _ .”

“I see.” He leaned back in the overstuffed armchair while amusement danced in his emerald green eyes. “Huh… I never noticed to be perfectly honest.”

“You never noticed?”

He shook his head. “Never.” A warm blush painted his cheeks as he looked over at Hermione. “I really don’t pay much attention to girls. Apart from you, that is.”

It was Hermione's turn to blush and she bowed her head, fighting against the grin that so wanted to light up her face. “I see.”

Harry smiled for a moment before it faltered. He cleared his throat and looked at the fire. “Ron, he was… he was talking about you the other night, well I was I mean. He and I, actually, we- we were speaking about you.”

“You were?”

“He was talking about what nice… skin… Lavender has.”

“...Skin?”

“Skin. And I… might have mentioned that you also had nice… skin.”

Hermione blinked. Once. Twice. A third time. “I... I have nice… skin?  _ You _ think I have nice skin?”

“I do,” he muttered, blushing wildly. “Nicer then Ginny’s as well.”

The two teenagers looked at one another, brown eyes meeting green. For a moment there was no sound but the low crackling of the dying fire but then Harry snorted, and Hermione giggled and soon they were both laughing so hard that they had to grab onto one another to keep from falling over. When they could finally breathe again Hermione beamed at her friend and he grinned back at her and soon after both of their smiles faded into something softer, more gentle.

All of a sudden everything was too much. The soft warmth of her best friend's gaze and the intimacy of the two sitting besides the low fireplace and the voice that was screaming at her not to pull away when she thought he started to lean in. Hermione stood quickly as did Harry. 

“We need to get to bed,” she said decisively with a firm nod. “We have a long day ahead of us.”

“Of course,” Harry agreed.

Hermione turned on the heel and started to head up to her chambers when Harry called out to her. He started to stammer out an apology for something that hadn’t happened yet but all she did was smile sweetly at him.

“For what it’s worth I think you have nice skin too,” she told him. Then, biting back a laugh at the utterly dumbfounded look, the bushy haired witch raced up the stairs and into the sixth year chambers and collapsed on her bed, torn between feeling as terrified as she felt when she was cornered by a Mountain Troll and feeling as giddy as she did when she received her first 110% on her first ever paper here at Hogwarts.

The next day the butterflies that started to flutter in her stomach whenever she and Harry would spend their time together were no longer there and a nervous hard slab took its place. During breakfast she couldn’t stop glancing up at the staff table where Jaime and Brienne were sitting enjoying their meal. They were leaning in close, a smirk on his face as he whispered something to her that made her cheeks burn red and made her lips press into a hard line but there was a hint of a smile in her deep blue eyes that Hermione could see even from here. 

After their morning meal they had Charms together, then DADA where Jaime was teaching them more advanced nonverbal spells, reminding them that to know defense,  _ true _ defense, you needed to respect the dark arts (one thing even Harry couldn’t deny was his skill. Jaime was a renowned duelist, and, it was said, he even managed to disarm Dumbledore himself during a bout. He told their students with a strange sense of pride that Brienne was the only one who ever managed to beat him during their summer where they apparently became friends and he lost his hand and she was the last person he dueled with his wand hand.)

The rest of the day passed quicker then Hermione would have liked. Their other classes seemed to last mere seconds, lunch was a half a heartbreak, and even the complicated number charts of Arithmancy weren't even that enjoyable. After that was dinner but rather than go to the Great Hall she met Harry in the corridor next to the Hufflepuff’s common room, invisibility cloak in hand.

“You ready?

Nodding, Hermione got as close to him as possible (they were grown to the point where the cloak could barely cover one much less two of them and they had to huddle together) and the two of the made their way to the end of the long hallway where a golden sun was nestled inside a silver colored crescent moon was engraved on the dark wood. Hermione brandished her wand and cleared her throat. 

“Sol,” she said as clearly and loudly as she was able to. The door didn’t budge. “Vega. Luna. Gemini, Aries, Leo, Orion-.”

“Hermione?”

“Ursa Major, Ursa Minor, Aquarius, Sagittarius, Cancer-.”

“Hey Hermione.

“Pluto, Jupiter, Venus, Mars-.”

“Hermione.”

Huffing, she turned to her companion. “What? I’m  _ trying _ to figure out the password.”

“I know.” Harry simply smiled before he faced the door and said, “Evenstar.” The door swung open for them. He looked rather self satisfied and Hermione pressed her lips together but there was a sparkle in her brown eyes that made his smug smile grow. “I had detention in her office once. Polishing telescopes for three hours by hand, I smelled like polish for a week.”

Cautiously, the two students walked into their professors office. The walls were painted a deep blue while the ceiling had been enchanted to look like the night sky and all around were different telescopes, complicated star charts that even Hermione would have difficulty deciphering, several different moving models of different solar systems, and a large Hufflepuff banner behind her fairly organized desk hung on the wall besides a quartered rose and azure banner with yellow suns and white crescent moons. 

They headed into Brienne's personal apartment through a door in the back of the officer cautiously and quietly but, curiously, there was no one there. The walls were the same blue as her office and also like her office different star maps and instruments and models of suns and planets and moons and three entire shelves full with books about astronomy, magic and muggle alike, and in the corner was a nearly made four corner queen bed with deep blue and hot pink bedding and a large wardrobe covered in suns and stars and moon. A table with two chairs was in the middle of the room covered with a white tablecloth and two unlit candlesticks. 

What was odd though was on the wall hung a large sword in a red leather scabbard with golden lions and rubies on the hilt. Harry and Hermione glanced at each other before they headed over to the sword.

“What would a Hufflepuff be doing with the sword of Gryffindor?” Hermione mused but Harry shook his head.

“It’s not Gryffindor’s sword,” he told her. “His hilt was silver, this is pure gold.” Eyeing the doorway to make sure they were alone, Harry reached out and grasped the hilt of the sword, removing it from its scabbard, and almost promptly dropped it. “It’s a LOT heavier too,” he grunted, having to use both hands to even lift it off the ground much less hold it upright. 

Hermione looked at the sword, brow furrowing at the strange metal. It looked dangerously sharp and the steel had strange swirls of red and black deep in the welding and as she examined it closer, from the lions on the hilt to the crimson leather scabbard with golden suns; it clicked and Hermiome nearly choked on her own shock.

“Harry!” she gasped, clutching his arm. “Do you know what this is?!”

“Should I?”

“If you paid attention to fifth year History of Magic then yes!” He still looked confused so she continued. “Back thousands and thousands of years ago, even before the founding of Hogwarts, there was a war between some kind of frozen Inferi and then muggles and wizards all had to band together to defeat the dead.”

“The long night? I heard of it, it’s just a story though like Author and… and Merlin,” Harry finished with a mutter, staring down at the sword.

“According to legend,” Hermione continued. “it ended when a muggle known as ‘Blue Knight’ and a pure blood called ‘Golden Hand the Just’ destroyed the dark wizard with magic twin swords. Golden Hand wielded Widow's Wail and Blue Knight...” Hermione’s grin widened as she took the heavy sword from Harry’s hand. The gold and rubies glittered beautifully in the light of the lamps. “Blue Knight wielded Oathkeeper.”

“But that’s just a-.”

“Story? So was wizard and witches and magic up until 6 years ago,” Hermione countered. “I mean even in Wizard history a lot of this is just legends and possibilities but there IS legitimate historical evidence of a major war where muggle and wizards fought together, a silver haired woman rode a dragon during it, and Golden Hand and Blue Knight and their flaming twin swords, one with lions on the hilt and red and black steel, somehow ended the conflict.”

Harry and Hermione glanced at the sword and then at each other. “So… wait, you don’t think this is THAT sword do you?” Harry asked her. “And how does a Hogwarts professor end up with a magic flaming sword of wizard AND muggle legend from eons ago? And if it’s a twin sword where’s the other one?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I’d bet money this is one of them.” 

Harry pursed his lips then reached out and lightly touched the broadside of the steel, yanking it back quickly, green eyes wide. He showed her his finger where the pad was bright red and raised slightly. “It’s hot…” he muttered. “Like…”

“Like it was just on fire,” Hermione finished, beaming at her friend. 

Before they could debate over the legitimacy of the supposed historical sword they heard muffled voices from the outer office. It took the two of them to lift the sword back in its scabbard and only then they just barely managed to throw the cloak back over themselves as Brienne and Jaime both came into the inner chambers.

Both were dressed in their outfits they had worn to class that day, him with crimson robes trimmed in gold and hers a dark blue dotted with stars that made it look like she was wearing the night sky itself. Without a word Brienne went over and waved her wand at the fireplace, stacking the logs and lighting it aflame. 

“Do you really think Cersei would let him use Tommen?” Brienne asked as she took off her robes. “After what happened to Joffrey?”

“Let him? She probably offered him up at the first chance she could,” Jaime said with loathing as he stripped off his robes as well. With a flick of his wand both blue and red robes flew into the wardrobe which, Hermione noticed with a furrowed brow, held both his and hers robes. He sank down in the chair and flicked his wand rather enthusiastically and a glass of wine appeared in hand. “Joffrey relished the chance to serve You Know Who the same as his mother but Tommen… He doesn’t want that, he doesn’t believe in what she's teaching him.” Jaime looked over at the tall blonde. “He’s scared, Brienne. He doesn’t wanna do this.”

Harry and Hermione looked at one another. Tommen Baratheon was Jaime’s nephew, some rumors even said more than that, a happy smiling wizard who excelled in Charms. His Slytherin brother Joffrey had been a proud blood supremacist and Deatheater wannabe who murdered Professor Stark one day after class. Like Jaime, old money and influence kept him out of Azkaban but unlike his uncle, who had Dumbledore protest his expulsion, Joffrey was kicked out of school and committed to the long term ward of Mungos. A week later Joffrey was found dead with poison flowing through his veins. Some say it was Starks Ravenclaw daughter Sansa, others say it was Joffrey's Slytherin girlfriend Margaery (who moved on surprisingly quickly to his younger brother) and even a few say it was his uncle Tyrion, the Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, himself.

The Order, however, (not that Harry and Hermione were supposed to know this) were under the firm belief that Voldemort had Joffrey killed to keep him from spilling any secrets about why he killed the onetime head of the Aurors office. The next semester Jaime had been hired by Dumbledore as the DADA professor, who promptly and politely ignored any grumblings in regards to hiring a man related to the student who killed the last DADA professor and who himself murdered another member of the Order. 

And now it seemed that ANOTHER member of that family was somehow intertwined in dark shady dealings. 

Brienne walked over to Jaime and took a seat beside him.“She already lost one son on orders from Voldemort though, do you really think she would let that happen again?”

A sad smile made its way to Jaime’s face. He reached up and with surprising tenderness he buried his hand in her pale blonde hair. Hermione’s brown eyes grew wide. 

_Guess we know why they spend so much time together in her_ _chambers…_

“You have much more faith in my sister then she deserves, Wench.”

“Cersei loves her children though, she-.”

“She loves them as extensions of herself,” Jaime corrected. “She loved Joffrey because he acted exactly like her, she likes Myrcella because of how much she looks like her and she barely tolerates Tommen. You’re crazy if you think Cersei won’t give him up if it gets her in better with You Know Who. Dumbledore hired me to keep an eye on them and keep them safe, it's only by the grace of the Gods he has you as the head of his House and Myrcella fell under McGonagall but… how can I tell a frightened fourteen year old ‘don’t listen to your mother and don’t obey the dark wizard giving you orders’? I’m trying to figure out his plans but he doesn’t wanna tell me anything, he doesn’t trust me.”

Brienne smiled sadly at him, rubbing his shoulders with surprising tenderness. “I didn’t either until you told me the truth. Why don’t you just tell Tommen what you told me?”

“He won’t believe me.” He glanced down at the bedspread they were sitting on. “I don’t even know why you do.”

Brienne reached forward and lightly kissed his lips. “Because you’re a good and honorable man. Because you saved Hogwarts, you saved Dumbledore, you saved every student and professor here and you would rather be the most hated man in the world then risk someone finding out that there's casks of Wildfire and Fiendfyre underneath the school.”

Hermione had to throw her hand over her mouth to stop the audible gasp from being heard and beside her, Harry’s eyes went wide and his jaw dropped to the floor. 

Fiendfyre was dark magic, darker than what was even taught at Hogwarts, and Wildfire was an ancient substance no one had seen in thousands of years. To know that barrels of them laid under their very feet somehow… Jaime wasn’t a murderer. He wasn’t a death eater, or a supporter of You Know Who. He was a hero who saved thousands of people and not only that, but how many of those he saved would go on to help stop the war? You Know Who would have won and who knows what would have happened after that.

“Without you stopping him,” Brienne continued, running her hand through his golden hair. “Aerys would have blown up the school and everyone would have died.”

“A knife in the back of a traitor was easy, especially after he broke my wand. But I can't do the same to Tommen. Voldemort-.” Brienne flinched but Jaime didn’t pause, “gave Tommen the task of killing Dumbledore for the same reason he told Joffrey to kill Ned Stark; to get back at me for killing Aerys.”

This time Hermione couldn’t bite back her gasp, but Harry must have known because just a squeak of a scream passed her lips he put his hand over her lips to muffle the sound. Jaime and Brienne both looked over to where they were standing, thankfully hidden by the cloak. Harry’s arm wrapped tight around her waist and as silently as they could, slipped towards the thankfully open door into the outer office. Hurrying, they ran through the office, caring little for the noise they made until they were outside the door. 

“Come on,” Harry said, his voice taking on a stern commanding tone that sent butterflies fluttering in Hermione’s stomach. He grabbed hold of her hand and the two teenagers raced up, up, up the stairs. “We need to tell Dumbledore and we need to tell him now!”

They ran all the way to his office, stopping at the gargoyle in front of the golden staircase. This time it was Harry’s turn to yell out various passwords to no avail.

“Sherbet Lemon!” he shouted at the statue. “Acid Pops, Fizzing Whizbees, Pumpkin Pastries, Licorice Snap!” 

The gargoyle began to shift and moan and move, and Harry and Hermione had just enough time to smile briefly at what they thought was their crowning moment of glory before long green tartan came into view descending down the staircase, and both of their faces fell as McGonagall appeared before them. When she saw Hermione and Harry standing at the base of the statue she just turned and motioned to her students to follow her.

“Why is it always you two?” she asked in a heavy sigh as they climbed the long winding steps.

“It’s an emergency this time, Professor,” Harry explained urgently. “It’s a matter of life and death.”

“Isn’t it always?” 

McGonagall knocked on the outer door, “Come in,” the headmaster's friendly voice called out and the aged witch pushed open the door.

Dumbledore sat there at his desk, hands folded on the crowded cluttered desk. “Ah Mr. Potter and Miss. Granger. What can I do for you?”

“Well you see, Professor-,” Hermione began nervously. “Tommen Baratheon-.”

“Tommen was told by his mother and Voldemort to kill you and there’s wildfire and fiendfyre hidden under the castle that Aerys Targaryen planned to use but Professor Lannister stopped him and now Voldemort is getting his revenge by getting Joffrey to kill Ned Stark and Tommen to kill you!” Harry blurted out as quick as he could. 

There was a long heavy silence after Harry finished. Hermione was the first to speak, clearing her throat. “That about sums it up, Professor.”

There wasn’t fear or shock or worry or anything else in Dumbledore’s expression. Instead he almost looked rather amused at being told there was an assassin at the school and enough dark magic hidden in the floors of the school to blow up half of London.

“And if I may; where did you hear this information?”

Harry and Hermione glanced at one another before they turned back to the bearded wizard. “We overheard it,” Hermione said simply. “From Professors Lannister and Tarth.”

His blue eyes twinkled and the corner of his lips flickered upwards. “I see.” Dumbledore turned towards McGonagall, she at least looked with the appropriate amount of shock. “Minerva, if you would please fetch me Tommen Baratheon along with Jaime Lannister and Brienne Tarth.”

“Of course,” she stammered out, eyes wide before she hurried out of the office, glancing down at the carpeted floor as if it were apt to explode at any moment. When she was gone Dumbledore turned towards the two students and offered them a bowl of cream and orange colored sweets.

“It will never cease to amaze me how muggles are able to create such amazing things with only ingenuity and hardwork,” Dumbledore said, popping one of the candies in his mouth.

“Professor, please,” Harry urged. “There’s fiendfyre and wildfire buried-.”

“Beneath the school? I’m well aware, Harry, as I have been since Professor Tarth convinced Professor Lannister I was worthy enough to trust with the information at the beginning of the school year. The rest of the students and professors aren’t in on that particular secret however so I would ask you not to go spreading that news around as that information might, as Professor Lannister feared, fall into the wrong hands.”

“If Voldemort knows about it already though-!”

“ _ If _ , Harry,  _ if _ he knows about it,” Dumbledore said with a knowing smile. “Did you know the Targaryens used to be kings? The ‘blood of the dragon’ they called themselves, and for good reason. There was magic in them that none other but they possessed, the magic of fire and the magic to ride dragons. But along with that blessing of greatness came a curse of madness, one that Aerys unfortunately possessed. He thought if he could destroy the school then the Deatheaters would follow him instead of Voldemort, they would make him king. Aerys didn’t care about muggles or pure bloods or any of that he simply wanted the power his family used to posess, and sadly, to a mad mind, genocide is the only way to get that.”

Hermione furrowed her brow. “But… Aerys, he was a member of the Order.”

“He joined to spy on us for Voldemort,” Dumbledore said sadly. “Aerys fooled all of us, even me, and we have the thanks to one brave seventeen year old boy for noticing the signs.”

“So…. you knew about the wildfire then? When Lannister was first arrested?”

“No but I could tell there was something he wasn’t telling me and I knew he wouldn’t have done what he did without good reason. Jaime wanted to be an auror, more than anything. He wanted to protect the weak and punish the wrongdoers, he wouldn’t have killed Aerys for the sake of Voldemort, not when he was so hellbent on proving himself a different sort then his twin and father to the point that he and several other seventh years took to walking younger muggle born students to class so their less scrupulous pure bloods brethren didn’t attack them in the corridors which was unfortunately common during those days.” Dumbledore smiled at a rather dumbstruck Hermione. “They called themselves ‘the kingsguard’, to make the muggleborns feel important and more apt to let them help then. But anyway, I’m well aware of the gifts Aerys left behind, and I’ve been working on a way to find the casts since I was informed.”

“But what about Tommen,” Harry asked, his voice dark. “He was ordered to murder you, he-.”

“Is a scared fourteen year old boy thrust into something he never wanted nor asked for and is doing his absolute best to try to navigate through it,” Dumbledore said as stern as Hermione ever heard him. “Surely you can remember what that’s like.”

There was a knock on the door and a moment later Tommen and Professors Lannister and Tarth (dressed in their robes again) walked in behind Mcgonagall. 

Tommen was trembling head to foot and Brienne put a large freckled hand on her students shoulder with as much tenderness as McGonagall would have used for any of her Gryffindors.

“Good evening, Tommen,” Dumbledore greeted him with as much kindness as inhabited the old man, offering the golden haired Hufflepuff the same bowl of candy he offered Harry and Hermione earlier. “Sorry to interrupt your meal but I do believe we have some things to discuss. Would you prefer to speak in private or do you want Professor Tarth and your uncle here with you?”

“They can stay,” he answered in a small soft voice. “I don’t mind.”

Dumbledore smiled at him. “Very good, Mr. Baratheon.” He turned towards Harry and Hermione who knew when they were being dismissed. “Thank you Mr. Potter, Miss. Granger but seeing as how you skipped dinner you must be absolutely famished. I’m sure if you hurry they’re still serving supper.”

“Of course,” Hermione said, grabbing hold of Harry’s elbow. “Thank you for your time, Professor.”

Without a look back the two young wizards hurried out of Dumbledore's office and down the winding staircase. Rather than head to the Greathall they made their way to the abandoned Common Room, plopping down in front of the fireplace.

“I can’t believe Lannister is a hero,” Harry said, prodding the fire with his wand to get it hotter. “All this time he let others think the worst of him just to keep everyone safe.”

“Poor Tommen through,” Hermione mused. “He’s a sweet boy from what I’ve seen, he’s always friendly with everyone, and his cat, Ser Pounce, I don’t know a nicer cat.”

“Don’t let Crookshanks hear you say that.”

Hermione chuckled softly. “I just hope that Dumbledore is able to sort it all out.”

“He will,” Harry said assuredly, reaching over to rub her shoulder. “I know he will.”

The touch of his hand on her shoulder was warm and gentle but, surprisingly, it wasn’t awkward or anything but nice and all at once those butterflies were back, flapping harder than ever. Hermione looked at his hand still resting on her shoulder and then at Harry who quickly tried to pull it off but the teenaged witch reached up and placed her hand over his, stilling his movements. She gnawed at her lip with her oversized teeth and warm brown eyes met emerald green. 

“You know you do have really nice skin,” Harry whispered to her, and the way he was looking at her sent Hermione’s heart pounding. The very tip of his thumb brushed against the, apparently very nice, skin of her neck.

“So do you,” she said back, voice trembling from nerves and anticipation. 

“Not as nice as yours,” he replied. He inched even closer. She could feel his warm breath on her and she felt herself being drawn closer.

“Probably just as nice,” she muttered. He was so close that she could see herself in the reflection of his glasses and then a moment later their eyes closed and their lips met. 

It wasn’t long, it wasn’t sensual, it wasn’t anything like the movies or books made it out to be. It was wet and stiff when they moved against each other and she could feel the fear that came with knowing there was no going back after this. But Hermione found that she didn’t care about that, because being Harry’s best friend was great but being Harry’s best friend who got to own his heart and kiss him besides fireplaces was even better.

Harry pulled away first and Hermione could feel the heat rising in her cheeks and she was too scared to open her eyes. For a moment neither spoke and she was terrified of what his response might be, but when she felt his hand bury itself in her bushy brown hair and the other wrap itself around her and pull herself as close as the chairs would let them, Hermione finally opened her eyes to see him smiling more contently more then she had ever seen and she beamed at him before, feeling emboldened, she came over to his chair and snuggled in next to him and he eagerly pulled her in closer and she rested her head on his shoulders. 

“Things are going to change now aren’t they?” she asked, and Harry nodded, kissing the top of her head before he grinned.

“It will. But I think, for once, I’m going to like this change.”


End file.
